


Like an Old Diary

by DoodleBumpers



Series: Recollections [2]
Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Origin Story, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, They're cuddling and being nostalgic, mentions of abuse, tw mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22986391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoodleBumpers/pseuds/DoodleBumpers
Summary: Having told Aina about how they met has left the two former Mad Burnish generals nostalgic. They think back to a conversation they had early in their friendship that deepened their understanding of eachother.
Relationships: Gueira/Meis (Promare)
Series: Recollections [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651969
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Like an Old Diary

Meis’ consciousness stirred. His biological clock told him he was nearing his eight hours of sleep. Not wanting to yet awake, Meis ignored the stirring of his thoughts and tried to clear his mind. This struggle was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the bunker room. Soon, Meis was joined on the bed by another body.

A hand brushed aside Meis’ long hair, making the identity of the new presence apparent as the hand lingered at the side of the sleeping man’s head. Meis slowly opened his eyes, fighting the painful friction in his eyes caused by sleep.

“Hey,” Gueira greeted with a lopsided grin that never failed to increase Meis’ pulse.

“Hey,” Meis inhaled as he stretched the sleep from his limbs, “God I feel awful.”

“I thought as much, you hate sleeping in your makeup,” the redhead commented as he absentmindedly fixed Meis’ sleep ruined hair.

“These beds aren’t the most comfortable things either,” Meis rubbed at his eyes, not caring about smudging the makeup that was very likely already ruined, “Not that there’s much to complain about. A bed is still better than no bed.”

Gueira let out a snort, “When have you ever slept without a bed? I’ve been your unofficial mattress whenever we had to sleep on the ground.”

Meis smiled up at the man as he joined his hand with his partner’s, “And my old man body thanks you for your sacrifice.”

“Ready to head out?” Gueira asked, his thumb rubbing at the back of the tired man’s hand.

“Nah, let’s hang out here for a few minutes,” Meis said, pulling at Gueira’s hand so the lanky man was laying over his stomach.

“Ok, but if we stay in here too long they’re gonna think we’re fuckin,” Gueira agreed, wiggling onto the bed to get more comfortable.

“Speaking of that, why’d you make it sound like we had sex on the first night we met earlier?” Meis inquired, busying his hand by returning the gesture of combing through the other man’s hair, only he knew there was no way of making that mass on Gueira’s head any neater.

Gueira shrugged. Meis felt the motion rather than saw it, “It’s like you said, like reading an old diary.”

“So you’re saying Aina thinking we were intimate the day we met each other is less embarrassing than what really happened?” Meis raised his head to look at Gueira’s expression.

“You did make me out to be a groupie already anyway,” Gueira turned his head to look at Meis with a cheeky grin.

“Well you were,” Meis let his head fall back with an audible plop, “It just didn’t happen till later.”

“I don’t want Aina to start asking about our tragic origin story. The whole squad bugs us about our past as it is anyway,” Gueira turned over to start creating small rows of braids with Meis’ hair.

Meis snickered, “You sure? Knowing about your tragic backstory made you a lot more likable to me back then.”

“That’s cas you already liked me,” Gueira sang.

“You’re so full of yourself,” Meis sat up, causing Gueira to roll off his stomach with a yelp.

***

“Remind me again why you’re staying in a rinky dink motel so far from the venue when the rest of the band is staying in the nice one right next to the concert hall?” Gueira asked as he struggled to carry Meis’ gear down the corridor of the motel.

“Because I actually look at our finances and know that we shouldn’t be able to afford big fancy hotels,” Meis answered as he set down his guitar case to look for his room key, “They think we’re big time rockstars already when we’re really not.”

“That’s valid,” Gueira nodded, setting down the amp by the bass guitar as he waited for Meis to open the door.

“Thanks for helping with all this,” Meis said as he finally got the door open, “I would’ve lost my mind trying to transport all this on my own through the bus system. The last taxi I used in this town tried to run off with all my gear in the trunk.”

“Hey it’s my pleasure!” Gueira beamed, “Any excuse to hang out with my favourite musician.”

“I probably took you quite a ways from your own hotel,” Meis said as he picked up the hotel phone, flipping through the phone book, “I’ll get your taxi, it’s the least I can do.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I didn’t have a reservation or nothing, I was just going to walk into the nearest motel that had a vacancy sign. This place is just as good as any other,” Gueira waved his hands to stop Meis.

“Oh, sorry it had to be such a shitty motel then,” Meis set down the receiver.

“So uh.. I guess I’ll see you at your next show then,” the redhead said, rocking on his heels at the motel doorway.

“Yeah, I’ll show you around backstage again if time allows,” the musician offered a smile.

“I’d like that,” Gueira smiled back, though awkwardly.

The fanboy lingered at the doorway as if wanting to say something, or expecting something more.

The thought clicked in Meis’ head. “Ah. Look, I’m not super comfortable doing that kind of thing with a fan. There’s a skewed power dynamic and it’ll be like I’m using my fame to get things from people even if you don’t feel that way.”

Gueira’s face matched his hair all the way down to his chest. “I- that’s not what I want here!”

Meis stared at Gueira as the man stood in a defensive stance, arms out and feet planted firmly on the ground with his knees bent to lower his center of gravity. It was funny to say the least coupled with Gueira’s flustered expression. Meis crossed his arms in a subtle gesture for the man to continue.

“I was... hoping I could talk to you about your song,” Gueira returned to standing upright, rubbing at his face to try force the blood out of his face.

The bassist was taken aback, “It’s a song. What is there to talk about?”

“Listening to it, I felt like the lyrics spoke to me, and your voice carried a weight like you lived the circumstances you describe in the lyrics,” Gueira began, unable to look up from his feet, “It’s weird but a lot of times I felt like you’re the only one who would understand. Am I making any sense?”

Meis looked down as well, letting his hair hide his expression.

“Take a seat,” the dark haired man offered, “And close the door behind you. It’s cold out.”

Meis was very aware of Gueira’s smile despite being turned the other way as the man did as told and sat himself down on one of the two beds.

The bassist sat himself down at the edge of the opposite bed before looking up to see that the redhead had seated himself cross-legged in the very center of the other bed. Something about it was adorable.

“How about we exchange questions? You ask one, then I ask one,” Meis offered as he undid some of the many studded leather accessories he had on his person. He was received with a nod. “So what do you want to know?”

“Well, I guess to start I want to know what inspired it,” Gueira gripped onto his ankles and rocked forward.

Meis let out a shallow sigh, “I sort of wrote that song when I was a teen. I cleaned it up a little before recording it with the band. Back then, a rumor broke out that I wasn’t straight. It wasn't wrong, but no one knew that. The rumor was purely based on my interests.”

The bassist paused to look up at his audience. Gueira was laser focused, his posture the same leaned in position.

“Kids are cruel, but my traditionalist parents proved themselves to be capable of worse,” Meis continued, “The teachers contacted them, more concerned about the bullying I was receiving and they took it entirely a different way. They stripped me of everything that made me who I was, and when that didn’t seem to work, they tried to beat the heteronormativity into me.”

Gueira frowned, but remained quiet to allow Meis to continue.

“I was a powerless kid with no outlet to be angry or sad,” Meis rubbed at his eyes, checking to see if they were still dry, “There were times when I wanted to make it all stop. Take control in the form of deciding how I was going to end it. Then I started to write music, staying alive out of pure spite. Promising myself that I’ll keep being me despite their efforts and above all, be happy. All to rub it in their face.”

Meis looked back towards Gueira with the conclusion of his answer. However, the man still stared at Meis with a deep frown on his face as if expecting the bassist to continue.

“That was what inspired the songs,” Meis added like a verbal period to his story.

“I see,” Gueira slumped back, looking at the bed as though processing what he had been told.

“Alright, my turn,” Meis sat further back on the bed, “What makes you say that my songs saved your life?”

Gueira’s shoulders noticeably stiffen.

“Oh, it’s really lame compared to what you told me,” Gueira tried to dismiss to no such luck. Meis stared at Gueira with that look that prompted Gueira to continue.

“Well, my identity crisis didn’t happen till I was an adult,” Gueira began, “I was already in a relationship with a girl for almost a year when I came to that self realization. I still loved her of course, and I didn’t want anything to change. But the longer I kept this big thing about myself hidden from her, the more I felt like I was lying to her.”

Meis had a growing suspicion of where this was going, and he couldn’t help but frown as the familiarity of his prediction brought back a nostalgic pain.

“I finally came out to her, and surprise! She didn’t take it well,” Gueira’s shoulders slumped, “She changed after that. She became very controlling. She said she couldn’t trust me around anyone because now everyone had the potential to take me away from her. I couldn’t convince her otherwise no matter what I said, since I've apparently already lied to her from the very beginning by not being open about it before the relationship. When in reality I hadn't known then either."

“She didn’t hurt you physically though, did she?” Meis couldn’t help but interrupt, his concern for the man being an extension to the knowledge of knowing how his song went.

“That came after we broke up,” Gueira rubbed at his arm, “In the end, I couldn’t handle it anymore so I broke it off, but due to our other circumstances, we still lived together for a while. She didn’t like that I was trying to move on, though I tried to be very discreet about it y’know? I never brought anyone home, never took phone calls in the apartment, came home as I normally would. The works.”

Gueira looked completely defeated. Meis wanted to comfort the man, but his own reservations prevented him from making that physical gesture.

“I felt trapped. The person I loved and trusted so much turned on me so quickly. She used to be the person I would talk to when I felt this way, but now… I had nothing,” Gueira continued, rubbing more aggressively at his arm, “During the peak of this, I discovered your music. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone, that there’s someone out there who understood what I was going through and I don’t have to be… suffering in silence.”

Meis’ eyes narrowed at Gueira’s fidgetiness, “How long ago was this?”

“Hey, that counts as your fourth question you know,” Gueira pouted with a faux playful pout.

“Since how long ago were you still living with this ex-girlfriend of yours,” the question was a demand for an answer.

Gueira tugged down at the sleeve of his motor jacket and pressed his lips into a line, refusing to give the other man a verbal answer.

A foreign feeling of care for the other man overrode Meis’ personal inhibitions as he rose to his feet, climbing onto the opposite bed, and reaching out to tug off the redhead’s jacket. 

Gueira showed no resistance as the leather jacket was removed, however he tensed when Meis held the corner of the man's sleeve.

Pulling up the loose sleeve, Meis found large blue bruises on the back of Gueira’s forearms. Defensive bruises from blocking blows to the face.

Meis felt as though his stomach had been tied into a noose.

***

“Why’d you let me look at your bruises back then anyway?” Meis asked with a frown. Thinking back had recreated the feeling in his gut tengold. The biggest difference in circumstances now compared to back then was that there was no longer any shadow of a doubt that he loved the idiot redhead with his every being. Knowing the man smiled as brightly as he did despite the pain he carried both physically and emotionally put a cold sensation in his core.

“I told you way back when,” Gueira answered, also thinking back on the same event, “You were the only one who would understand me. Yeah, I didn’t know you personally, but idolizing you and everything aside, I felt like I could trust you.”

“Hm,” Meis hummed disapprovingly, “You’re lucky I’m a guy worth that trust then. You have a very quick judge of character.”

“Has my judge of character ever been wrong though?” Gueira grinned, though he knew Meis couldn’t see it, “I was nervous though. When you saw them.”

***

Gueira’s stomach dropped when he finally looked up at Meis to see his expression.

‘He’s disgusted,’ was the thought Gueira had, ‘He’s going to think I’m just trying to get pity from him.’

A shiver traveled from Gueira’s arm to his nerves like a jolt of lightning when warm calloused fingers ran gently over the healing bruises.

“Do you plan to go back to that place when this tour hopping is over?” the bassist finally spoke.

“I…” Gueira’s mouth was dry, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You literally have everywhere else to go!” Meis frowned, making eye contact with Gueira.

In a rare instance, Gueira was able to see both the bassist’s eyes. They burned with something that Gueira hadn’t seen in another person in a long while. Something that weighed on the man’s heart in a way that it grounded him. Genuine concern.

“Anything is better than going back to this! What kind of monster does this to any person yet alone someone they loved?!” Meis let his voice raise for the first time since the two had met.

Gueira couldn’t answer, though he knew it was a rhetorical question, he felt as though he had to defend his ex. Meis was right, he had to get out of this.

“Well, your music got me out just before it got worse,” Gueira looked up at Meis with the brightness returned to his eyes, “Maybe meeting you is what’ll keep me away.”

A stillness followed, the two looking at each other as though something else was implied that neither was able to figure out yet.

Meis was the one to break the stillness as his eyes shifted to his hands. One still holding Gueira’s arm gently, the other hand still lightly pressed onto the tender skin of the bruises in mid observation.

The musician pulled his hands away. Gueira could’ve sworn he saw colour on Meis’ face before it was quickly concealed by the man’s long dark hair along with his expression.

“Good, I hope you’ll consider it,” the bassist said as he moved off of the bed.

“Kay, so I get three questions now, right?” Gueira pulled his sleeve back down, not bothering to put his jacket back on, under the assumption that he would be there for a while.

“I guess I came up with the rules,” Meis nodded and gestured for Gueira to continue as he sat back on his own bed.

“Why the bass?”

***

“You really haven’t changed.” Meis said as he scratched at the bottom of Gueira’s chin. The redhead dumbly smiled with his eyes closed, enjoying the gesture.

“What do ya mean?” Gueira inquired, his eyes opening to ask the question.

“You’re like a puppy dog that attaches himself to the first person to show you affection,” Meis smiled, imagining his partner with a set of floppy dog ears and a wagging tail.

“Am not!” Gueira raised himself on his elbows to emphasize his retort, “I’ve literally only ever done that with you!”

“Fine, but you still are like a puppy dog,” Meis snickered.

Gueira huffed with a pout, laying his chin down on Meis’ chest. “Am I a cute puppy dog?”

“Hmm,” Meis smoothed back Gueira’s bangs to study the man’s face, “Maybe if you weren’t so ragged and scruffy.”

“Liar, you think I’m adorable,” Gueira grinned, “If not, you married a ragged and scruffy street dog.”

“No, I married a passionate man who puts his all into everything he starts,” Meis pulled Gueira’s face in to plant a kiss on the man’s forehead.

“Oh good, you two are not doing what everyone thinks you're doing.”

The two former Mad Burnish generals looked up from each other at their former boss standing by the doorway of the bunker room, leaning with his weight on one foot as he tapped the other impatiently, arms crossed in a strict stance.

“I have a lot of work to do and I don’t have the time to check on the two of you just because the others are afraid of what they’ll find,” Lio said though his expression showed no agitation.

“Sorry boss,” Gueira said, sitting up, “We’re both just tired is all.”

“Well go home and rest so the rest of the squad stops bugging me,” Lio nodded towards the exit to indicate for the pair to hurry.

“Wait, they thought we were having sex so they sent our son to check if we were or not?” Meis raised a brow as he also sat up.

“Wow, yeah that’s fucked up,” Gueira agreed, looking back at Meis.

“Don’t call me that,” Lio said flatly before adding, “And honestly. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve walked in on you both. You have your own place now for crying out loud.”

“Alright, we’ll do our best not to embarrass you in front of your friends,” Meis shrugged.

“Son,” Gueira added, followed by a groan from the smaller man.

The three former leaders of Mad Burnish made their way to the main hall, from which they left Lio to his own devices as the older two of the three continued on their way to the exit.

They made a quick detour through the building to the rescue mobile where Galo worked, loading on the fire retardant gel.

“Make sure you’re treating our boy well,” Gueira said patting Galo’s shoulder.

“Yeah, or there’ll be hell to pay,” Meis added as they continued past the younger man.

“Huh?” was Galo’s immediate response of confusion.

“You’re not my dads!” came Lio’s voice from above them as the two exited, sharing a smile at each other.

**Author's Note:**

> There may be 1 more part to this..  
> Stay tuned.


End file.
